


Firebreak

by taLionic



Series: Winter Break [2]
Category: Thundercats (2011)
Genre: Grooming, Lion-O still thinks he's straight, M/M, Pre-Season/Series 01, porn with a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2021-01-26 15:10:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21376138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taLionic/pseuds/taLionic
Summary: After a heated night spent trapped in a blizzard, Lion-O and Tygra spend the next morning doing something new while they take a hot bath and relax on the hearth. Preseries, Tygra/Lion-O. Sequel to "Snowbreak" or stands alone.
Relationships: Lion-O/Tygra
Series: Winter Break [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541017
Comments: 5
Kudos: 29





	Firebreak

**Author's Note:**

> More paper-thin princely smut. Enjoy ~

"I still can't feel my ears," Lion-O groaned. He cupped his hands around the heated water lapping at his stomach and splashed his face, stream rising around him in clouds of relaxing curls.

When he and Tygra returned early that morning from the latest traditional hunt—made memorable by the mild blizzard they'd weathered in a shallow cave—Lion-O had been forced to put off a hot bath until certain necessary post-hunt tasks had been checked off. Jaga examined his injuries (pronounced minor, although a thorough wash and dressings for the next week were recommended); Snarf clung to his chest and meowed and patted his face until convinced Lion-O was quite well; and then he and Tygra chatted with their father about the hunt while they breakfasted together.

The wait was worthwhile: when Lion-O entered his brother's chambers, he found the servants had just finished setting up a tub filled with steaming water in front of a blazing fireplace. He'd barely managed to get all his clothing off before jumping in. Several minutes of splashing were not, however, enough to leech all of the cold from his bones. He rubbed his numb ears vigorously and sighed; despite his complaints, he was deeply happy to soak in a thin cloud of steam with the music of a roaring fireplace nearby. "Can't feel my nose, either."

"Then shove your head underwater again," Tygra said, a little too lazily to emit his usual level of snark. He sat languidly across from Lion-O with his eyes closed, enjoying the steam. Where Lion-O had been squirming and splashing until every strand of fur dripped with delicious heat, Tygra had only reclined with his elbows draped over the edge of the tub, one leg extended. He nudged Lion-O's thigh with his foot while he spoke.

"No, thanks," Lion-O said dryly, and curled over his ankles until the tip of his nose met the water. Privately, he considered dipping beneath the surface again, if only to escape the encroaching chill from the rest of the room. They were sitting in one of the larger tubs available for private bathing, but the water still didn't reach much higher than his waist, even with two nearly-grown cats in it. _I might never be warm again_.

Tygra opened one amber eye, his lips forming a faint smirk. "Why not? Do you need a hand?"

"Don't even." Lion-O sat up and stretched carefully, paying attention to the cuts and bruises he'd sustained when a livid comolbur tried to slice him into ribbons the day before. His back ached and the cuts stung, but a week of medicated creams, oils, and poultices would take care of the pain. "Unless you want to demonstrate with your head first."

Tygra watched him with both eyes open now, narrowed in that smirk of his. "You sure about that?" His voice dipped low, nearly a purr, and carried something more—a faint and expectant suggestion.

Lion-O, now slouching comfortably, caught his brother's gaze across the water. They hadn't discussed the previous night spent mating through a blizzard, nor had they addressed future liaisons outside of the breathless implications whispered between sleeping shifts. Lion-O hadn't _really_ expected a conversation on the subject (honestly, was there anything more to be said beyond "I've got lube" and "your rooms or mine?"), but he had assumed future activities would take place in a bed, not a tub. "What do you mean?"

The firelight, steam, and water played across Tygra's features, seemed to saturate the deep colors of his fur and reflect something wild behind his eyes. Lion-O noticed as if for the first time the pattern of his stripes, how deeply black they were against reds and browns and the pale fur of his face, neck, chest, abdomen, thighs...

He knew what Tygra meant. Or he thought he did. He dragged his gaze slowly back up Tygra's body and settled on that smirk again, now made decidedly smug by Lion-O's wandering eyes.

"How long can you hold your breath?" Tygra said, still in that low not-quite-purr. "I know I've given you more than enough practice in the arena." He shifted the leg he hadn't fully submerged yet, letting his thighs fall open.

"Uh," Lion-O said, somewhat taken aback. This was not the energetic splashfest he'd expected. It was Tygra's first proposal during the blizzard all over again: an invitation to do something Lion-O had never really thought about doing and didn't think he'd like. He _had_ agreed to being penetrated then—and could admit it wasn't the chore he'd thought it would be—but only because he'd wanted to penetrate in turn, to experience something new and rid himself of a boy's innocence (if a year or three later than his peers). But using his mouth?

It wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. Not with another man, of course—although he supposed it shouldn't matter since a mouth was a mouth—but the act itself was one of those things he thought about fairly often. What cat _didn't_ want his cock sucked on? And then it would only be fair to return the gesture. It was no worse than what they'd exchanged the night before.

And yet...

Lion-O frowned at his lap through the water. "I can't do that."

Tygra took in a breath as if he'd expected this response and already had an argument ready, but a few seconds later, he exhaled slowly without saying anything. When Lion-O looked up, he found Tygra's smirk replaced by something shrewd, maybe calculating. "Any particular reason why?"

"Well." Lion-O reached up and began squeezing excess water out of his mane. "I just can't do that for another man."

"But you would for a she-cat?"

"Well...yes. Who wouldn't?"

When Tygra only examined him in silence for another moment, Lion-O endeavored to fill it, feeling oddly compelled to explain. "I don't know why, not when what we've already done is worse, but I _can't_. Not...that." Lion-O dragged his hands out of his mane and down his neck slowly, still squeezing out excess water as he went.

"Worse?" Tygra repeated, eyebrows raised. And then: "Oh. I see."

Lion-O offered a little shrug. "Sorry."

But Tygra, as when he'd first convinced Lion-O to mate with him, was not discouraged. "What about grooming? You lions have a thing for that."

The stereotype was generally true: lions were one of the few cat clans with a much-stronger-than-most instinct to groom. Because big cats in polite society viewed the instinct as something "lesser" breeds were afflicted with, Lion-O had been raised to treat it like a bad habit, and spent years being scolded as a cub for grooming himself. Instinct is a hard habit to break, after all. Tigers lacked the same force of instinct, although Tygra had demonstrated adequate grooming skills well enough the night before. Lion-O gave him a doubtful look while he worked on pushing water out of the fur below his collarbone. "What about it?"

Tygra settled back into his usual annoyingly confident demeanor. His eyes lingered on Lion-O's hands while he spoke. "You'd be comfortable _grooming_ a cat from head to toe, wouldn't you?"

Lion-O furrowed his brow, working his way down his pecs. "I... That's different."

Tygra's smirk was unsettling in its cockiness. "How is it different? Groom your way up, groom your way down, clean up the mess with your tongue—isn't grooming just another method of bathing?" He paused here, deeply amused (at Lion-O's expression, probably).

Lion-O's hands had frozen on his chest, and he realized his mouth was open. He promptly closed it and swallowed. "But that's...different..." he said weakly.

Tygra sensed victory, if his predatory expression was anything to go by. His voice dropped back to that lower timbre. "Why don't we try it and see? If you groom the water out of my undercoat, it'll dry faster and we'll be able to get into bed sooner." When Lion-O's expression still retained a shadow of doubt, Tygra added: "You don't have to groom me _off_ if you don't want to." His teeth gleamed behind that obnoxious smirk.

Lion-O considered how much more palatable this proposal was and wondered why the thought of licking Tygra's genitals didn't bother him like the thought of sucking on him did. He lowered one eyebrow and said, a little hesitantly, "You're the kind of cat who thinks of grooming as erotic." At Tygra's brief nod, Lion-O continued: "But it won't be like that because it wouldn't be erotic for _me_."

"Sure," Tygra said easily. "I'll suck you off first. No need to worry about that then."

The damp fur on the back of Lion-O's neck stood up with his shiver. Indecisiveness had never been one of his failings. "Alright."

Tygra sat up and stretched—just a brief expansion of the chest—and then sloshed forward through the water on his knees. Lion-O twitched, then sat up stiffly and gripped the edge of the tub. When he began to part his legs, Tygra put a heavy hand over his ankles. "Stay there," he purred, and then reached into the water to grab and stroke and _squeeze _in just that way. Lion-O rested a hand on Tygra's head, cradling him against himself, and tried to bite back embarrassing little noises while Tygra pumped and trailed kisses down his chest. When he reached the waterline, he took in a long breath, slid down, and submerged himself completely.

Lion-O shook his fingers out of Tygra's hair and scrabbled at the side of the tub with both hands, not wanting to risk holding his brother under unintentionally. He made a choked sound when Tygra pulled back his foreskin and breathed bubbles against the sensitive flesh there. Then he came back up to take a breath and glanced up at Lion-O, lips curled into an exhilarated smirk. He settled heavily on Lion-O's crossed ankles, one hand braced under Lion-O's thigh and the claws of the other digging into Lion-O's hip, and after another long breath, he dropped beneath the surface.

This time, he took Lion-O completely into his mouth—all of him, because he wasn't hard yet—and Lion-O's knees rose reflexively, hindered by Tygra's weight just enough for Lion-O to decide he didn't dare uncross his legs for fear of dislodging his brother. Tygra's lips made a soft, encompassing pressure around the base and against his body, and the wet heat of his mouth was much hotter than the water they were sitting in, and it felt— it— _oh, gods_—

It was another totally new sensation, something else Lion-O had never experienced before Tygra brought him to it, and it felt just as incredible as people said it did, better even—he dug his claws into the wooden sides of the tub and trembled all over with the effort to keep from jerking his legs free and thrusting into his brother's mouth. Tygra twisted his head, tongue pressed against him, and directed the head against his cheek...and Lion-O's self-command rapidly crumbled. _If this is anything like sinking into a she-cat— _Lion-O jerked and whimpered, struggling to stifle his cries and moans and fighting against the urge to thrust into Tygra's mouth, rubbing against his cheek and teeth and tongue, and was only semi-successful on both counts. Tygra didn't seem to mind, didn't pause or fumble, remained in control despite Lion-O's helpless squirming—was there anything that felt better than this, what could possibly compare—

Tygra dragged his teeth gently along the length of Lion-O's shaft as he pulled off and surfaced with a heavy gasp. It couldn't have lasted more than a minute, but Lion-O was still trembling and gasping soft moans when Tygra caught his breath. He looked into Lion-O's face with an unreadable expression, then leaned up out of the water to press their mouths together, touching every one of Lion-O's gasps with his lips until he'd settled.

"Like that, do you?" Tygra murmured, amused and oddly gentle.

"Y-yes," Lion-O managed, rubbing his cheek against Tygra's furiously. "Don't stop."

Tygra huffed out a brief laugh and kissed his brother again—and Lion-O didn't even care about where Tygra's tongue had just been, he couldn't taste himself anyway—then settled back down into the water and Lion-O's lap. Another slow, deep breath, and—

Lion-O tried not to cry out as loudly this time, and only partially succeeded. Tygra's mouth engulfed him completely, drew off slowly, and sucked him back in. He exhaled a stream of bubbles through his nose while he alternately bathed Lion-O in the hot-wet-heat of his mouth and the cooling bathwater. The contrast became increasingly apparent as Tygra's lips ceased to reach what could no longer fit easily in his mouth, sucking him steadily to complete hardness. It didn't help Lion-O's attempts to keep from thrusting into his brother's mouth, and he squirmed and jerked under Tygra's weight until he surfaced with an exultant gasp, went back under—resurfaced, back under—and surfaced again.

"What d'you think," Tygra said breathlessly once he'd come up again. "One more round to put you at full attention?"

Lion-O gazed down at him through heavy-lidded eyes. Tygra was one of those cats with hair that didn't lose its shape easily, but he still looked smaller with all of his fur plastered to his body and dripping strands of hair sticking haphazardly to his face. Lion-O was seized with the urge to roll him over and slam into him, to bite into his scruff hard enough to draw blood while he pounded into him from behind. He settled for biting his lip and brushing the wet strands out of Tygra's face with shaking fingers. "Whatever you like," he managed, his voice rough and low.

Tygra's expression softened into that unreadable emotion again—just for a second, barely long enough for Lion-O to register the shift—and then he was under, working the head with his mouth and squeezing the rest in the soft fur of his fist. Lion-O stopped caring about the noises he made and tangled his fingers in Tygra's hair, tugging and pushing helplessly while Tygra (quite unaffected by Lion-O's desperate shoving) licked and bobbed and sucked. When he came up to breathe, Lion-O yanked him directly up into a clumsy, wet kiss, and this time, he caught the faint flavor of something new on Tygra's tongue. They broke apart and Lion-O struggled to open his eyes while Tygra slid one hand into his wet mane and kissed his cheek.

"Let's move somewhere warmer," Tygra murmured, still a little breathless. "You're starting to shiver again."

Lion-O concurred, and clambered out of the tub on legs made shaky by more than cool air on wet fur. His erection strained in front of him, not in the least discouraged by the cooler air; he dripped more than just water as he stepped carefully to the expansive hearth and stood close to the flames. Tygra moved in the opposite direction to the pile of fluffy towels left for their use. Lion-O squeezed and pumped himself idly, watching his brother bend, gather the towels, turn, and make his way toward the fireplace. Intriguingly, Tygra was already hard, with precum gathering at the tip.

Tygra dropped the pile of towels at Lion-O's feet and pulled him into a passing kiss, briefly trapping their cocks between them. "Enjoying the view?" Tygra murmured against Lion-O's mouth, smug.

Lion-O echoed Tygra's smirk with one of his own, hands resting on his waist. "Not as much as you will." He pressed his lips, and then his teeth, to Tygra's neck and slid one hand down the hard muscles of his abdomen to squeeze him.

Tygra groaned softly, perhaps with the beginnings of a deep churr. He gripped the back of Lion-O's head and pulled him into a longer kiss, then stepped back. "See what you can do with those," he said breathlessly, indicating the towels at their feet. "And stop touching yourself—that's mine until you come in my mouth."

Lion-O struggled to breathe as Tygra turned and crossed the room, this time to rummage deep inside his closet. _He really just came out and—and said that_. "Why all the towels? I thought you didn't mind a cold floor," he said, trying to sound aloof and in command. He picked up a towel shakily and gave his fur a cursory scrub, mindful of his injuries. "You didn't seem to mind a cave in a blizzard."

Tygra snorted, exiting his closet with a much larger armful of towels. "I'm not the cat shivering in front of a fire." He joined Lion-O in arranging the towels like bedding on the hearth.

Lion-O made no complaint; the thoughtfulness behind this gesture was another odd break in Tygra's character, and Lion-O appreciated the novelty almost as much as he appreciated being sucked on. It really was a kindness, too—Tygra's fur might be advantageous in the snow, but sitting in front of a blazing fireplace would undoubtedly get uncomfortable fast. If he didn't find the temperature of the room stifling now, he would shortly. Lion-O had half expected him to open a window long before now. "Thanks," he said while they worked, affectionate and sincere.

When they'd finished their task, Lion-O laid back on the pile of towels cautiously at first, then relaxed completely when his injuries gave no great reproof. He stretched and folded his arms behind his head to give himself a better view. Tygra settled between Lion-O's open thighs, dragging his eyes down his body hungrily. Lion-O's cock stood up straight between them, leaking and straining in the air, and Tygra took a moment to admire it, too.

"Enjoying the view?" Lion-O murmured, voice made husky with his desire. "Knew you would."

Tygra met Lion-O's gaze, teeth bared in a hunter's grin, and grabbed the base of his shaft. "I think," he purred, his breath hot on sensitive skin, "that I enjoy the taste a little more." He tightened his grip and, without further warning, dragged his tongue over the head. The drop of precum was visible on Tygra's tongue for just an instant before he swallowed, and then he sucked Lion-O into his mouth, sliding down until his lips met his fist.

Lion-O's cry sounded loud to his ears, but moderating his volume was impossible with Tygra's tongue and teeth and lips sliding up his cock. He freed one arm from behind his head and grabbed a fistful of Tygra's hair, hips lifting reflexively. Lion-O could not describe what he felt at the sight of Tygra's lips wrapped around his shaft; there were no words for the pressure of his brother's tongue or the scrape of his teeth or the wet, engulfing heat of his mouth; so he closed his eyes and just _felt_.

Tygra let Lion-O's cock pop out of his mouth with a wet smack and grabbed his hips, pushing him firmly to the floor and holding him there. The return to Tygra's mouth came suddenly, and Lion-O gasped and groaned and uttered desperate cries that might have been words while Tygra swallowed him, all of him this time, sucking him in slowly all the way until his lips and nose were pressed into Lion-O's fur. He stayed there for a moment, so Lion-O, unscrewing his eyes, got to watch his brother drag his lips back up the full length of his shaft, leaving the skin glistening in the firelight.

Tygra paused with little more than the head caught between his lips and met Lion-O's gaze with smoky eyes, tongue working out of sight. The connection was brief, but electric; Tygra's focus returned to the task at hand, and Lion-O struggled against the iron grip on his hips, fighting with the helpless instinct to buck and thrust, to be buried completely and spill himself inside. Tygra, though exercising enough force to make the muscles in his arms prominent, had no trouble continuing at his own pace, nor did he seem to mind having his hair yanked on. He bobbed with increasing speed, alternating between full-throated mouthfuls and teasing only the head.

Lion-O's gasping cries went from staccato and stifled to loud, drawn out moans. He couldn't imagine having ever been this hard, tight and hot in Tygra's mouth, and he was close—so close—the thought to warn Tygra of his impending climax passed vaguely somewhere in the back of his mind, too distant to make an impression. Lion-O's thighs tensed, every muscle, and his release hit him like an avalanche, stealing his breath. His lips parted in a silent cry, and he arched his back and dug his heels into the floor, sliding along the stone with the towels. For endless seconds, Tygra alone anchored him to the ground, his sole tether to reality.

When Lion-O came back down, panting and wrecked, Tygra was still swallowing around him. He pulled off slowly, brushed a gentle kiss to the head, and lingered there in Lion-O's lap with his softening cock still jumping against his lips. Lion-O opened his eyes and gazed down his body with a faint grin, catching Tygra's satisfied expression.

Tygra ran his tongue over his teeth. "Great, isn't it?"

"Yes," Lion-O said, still a little breathless. He rubbed his fingers through Tygra's hair in an apologetic pet for all the pulling. "You're really good at that."

"I'm good at everything," Tygra said smugly. He slid up along Lion-O's body and until they were nose to nose, his weight a comfortable pressure, and pressed their mouths together.

Lion-O buried his fingers in Tygra's fur and parted his lips, then immediately regretted it. He had expected to taste himself on his brother's tongue, but he hadn't expected it to be so _strong_. He twitched back at the first salty slick, and Tygra participated patiently while Lion-O turned his head and licked into Tygra's mouth, grooming his own seed away so he could make out with his brother enjoyably. When their mouths were once more working against each other comfortably, Lion-O wrapped his legs loosely around his brother and hummed a content groan. He would be perfectly happy to fall asleep like this.

Tygra shifted, bringing his erection into contact with Lion-O's abdomen, and Lion-O was again interested to find him so hard despite the lack of physical stimulation. He wondered if Tygra had always been the type to enjoy getting on his knees for other men, and struggled to reconcile the brother he knew with the man who enjoyed sucking cock and being penetrated. Because there was no doubt Tygra enjoyed it: when Lion-O had mounted him the second time the night before, lordosis style, Tygra spilled his seed _before_ Lion-O reached around to help him out. Tygra came just from being mounted, with only a few clumsy thrusts, no additional assistance required. It didn't match the image Tygra projected, and it didn't match the corresponding stereotype defined by Thunderian society. Lion-O didn't know what to call it. He didn't know how he'd missed it.

He pressed his lips to Tygra's cheek, then dragged his tongue lightly along the dark stripe there. "Ready?" He murmured.

Tygra lifted himself onto his elbows and looked down into Lion-O's face, again with that uncharacteristic expression he couldn't seem to help (and Lion-O, with the ghost of alarm, began to sense its meaning—he hastily shoved the bewildering thought away).

"Actually," Tygra said, lightly caressing Lion-O's chin with his thumb pressed against Lion-O's lower lip, "I could use a break. Roll over, I'll help you with that stuff Jaga gave you." He released Lion-O's face and sat up on his knees, thighs spread either side of Lion-O's hips with his erection on clear display. A thick drop of precum slid down the head and fell to Lion-O's stomach, leaving a thin string unbroken between them.

"A break already?" Lion-O said, grinning. He ran a thumb down the slit of Tygra's cock and then used his fingers to wipe away the drool of precum on his abdomen. "I'm that good, huh?"

Tygra caught Lion-O's fingers before he could wipe them off on a towel, lifted them to his mouth, and cleaned them with his tongue. "Maybe someday," he purred. He kissed the back of Lion-O's fingers, released him, and stood up.

Lion-O drew his hand back slowly, heart hammering, and rolled carefully onto his stomach. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched Tygra move around the room--grabbing the prescribed medicines, rummaging around in his desk, and then striding back with a handful of small vials. He seemed just as at ease nude with a stiff shaft bobbing occasionally between his legs as he was in every other situation, and far more comfortable with an audience than Lion-O could admit to being himself. _He really is an attractive cat._ It wasn't that Lion-O had never noticed, but he'd never been in a position to fully appreciate the fact, so he hadn't looked. Tygra might not be a she-cat—would never have that kind of beauty, being the epitome of masculinity that he was—but he was still very nice to look at, and much more fun to fool around with than Lion-O ever would've imagined.

Tygra, on his return, dropped the vials next to Lion-O, who picked one up to examine. "What's this?" He said, and then, realization dawning, added, "You said you wanted a _break_."

Tygra snorted. "Not what that's meant for." He stepped over Lion-O's hips, straddling him, and sank down until he was seated on his thighs. Then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Lion-O's shoulder, sliding his cock between his cheeks.

"Are you sure?" Lion-O said while Tygra pumped his hips slowly. "I thought you wanted my leonine grooming skill, not my tail."

Tygra stopped dropping kisses along Lion-O's shoulders and sat up. "Maybe I'll take both," he said, cocky smirk firmly in place. But he slid forward against Lion-O's fur and made himself comfortable across his lower back. His hands closed over Lion-O's shoulders. "Down."

Lion-O settled into the towels, cheek on his arms, while Tygra dripped sharp-smelling medicated cream over his injuries. He rubbed it in with both hands, pressing lightly with his fingers, and Lion-O closed his eyes, enjoying the unexpected massage. He was still sore, but a long, hot soak followed by a mind-blowing orgasm had done wonders for the pain, and Tygra was courteous enough to keep his touch gentle.

"You'd better not fall asleep," Tygra said, but there was a pleased edge to his tone while he worked.

"I could purr," Lion-O said comfortably. It was a cliched saying among big cats, but one Lion-O could appreciate at present. Tygra's hands were warm, the cream was vaguely numbing, the fire was hot, and Lion-O's muscles unwound under the onslaught.

"If you're bored," Tygra said, "you can taste these and pick one you like." He corked and put aside the cream he'd been using and picked up the other prescription.

"Taste?" Lion-O repeated, turning his head to give Tygra a narrow-eyed look from the side. "Putting stuff in your fur will just make more work for me when I'm grooming you, bro."

"I'm not putting it in my fur," Tygra said, exasperated. "It'll help with the taste when I come. If you choose." He began working in the other, much less fragrant medication.

Lion-O freed one arm long enough to grab the bottles. There were four, with varied colors and viscosities ranging from almost-oily to congealing-syrup. "The taste isn't necessarily the issue," he said doubtfully, uncorking a vial at random and swiping his tongue lightly over the opening. Some kind of herb and mint, very strong. He put it back. "And I don't know if I can... swallow." The thought of grooming Tygra's erection didn't bother him any more than the thought of grooming Tygra's arm, but... well. Lions might be one of the clans driven to groom, but they weren't stupid about it—the tongue was best applied _after_ most of the mess had been wiped or rinsed away.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to," Tygra said easily, rubbing and pushing with the heels of his hands. "But even so."

Lion-O rolled his eyes and privately suspected Tygra's semen would get a damp towel before Lion-O went anywhere near it with his tongue; involving another substance would not make a difference. He opened the second vial anyway—something buttery and floral, with an odd, dry quality once it left the bottle. "What's this?"

Tygra glanced up from his hands. "That's mostly extracted from day astrids. It makes slippery things less slick."

Lion-O reassessed the little vial with interest. The _slimy_ had been the worst part about grooming himself out of Tygra's mouth. "Why didn't you use this when I...?"

"_I _don't need it," Tygra said haughtily. "I like feeling you shoot against my tongue. Tasting your release. Would you rather I spit it out?"

Lion-O preferred the image of his partner swallowing; he fumbled with his answer. "You—I don't want you to be uncomfortable. I mean, I got what I wanted. That's up to you."

Tygra's hands stilled on Lion-O's ribs. "You don't have to swallow. But you didn't mind tasting yourself, did you?"

Lion-O uncorked the third bottle and tasted candyfruit. _This must've been expensive_. "I _didn't_ like it. That's why I cleaned your mouth before I kissed you." He licked the opening again, gave the vial a little shake, and licked it a third time before closing and putting it down.

"I figured." Tygra ran his hands down Lion-O's sides, no longer massaging medication into his injuries. "Is there really that much difference between kissing and grooming? I would have rinsed it out if you didn't like it."

Lion-O lingered over the last bottle (something earthy and—_is that nip?_) to give himself time to articulate an answer. "If you'd had a mouthful, I would've told you to get rid of it first." He dropped the vial with the others and looked back over his shoulder with a rueful grin. "You non-groomers just don't understand."

Tygra walked forward on his hands and tilted his head to catch Lion-O's lips over his shoulder. "You taste like candyfruit," Tygra murmured, smirking against Lion-O's mouth.

Lion-O returned the smirk. "You taste like me." He slid his tongue between Tygra's lips.

Tygra made a soft, hungry noise into the kiss that followed. When they broke apart, breathless, he said, "You don't have to swallow. Or lick it. But I'm pretty sure you will, and I'm right about everything. You can use these before, during, or after. They make it easier to swallow and leave a nice aftertaste, trust me."

Lion-O gave him a considering look. "You do this for other men so often?" He pushed an unpleasant twinge of jealousy away without thinking about it, as he always did with jealousy where Tygra was concerned. "Why would you need these if you like it?"

Tygra rolled off Lion-O's back and relaxed into the towels. "I keep them for silly fledglings like you, little brother." He stretched his arms above his head and left them there. "Whenever you're ready," he purred.

Lion-O sat up on his heels and let the subject drop, examining Tygra's body with the clinical eye of a cat preparing to groom. His hair was damp but drying quickly, and Lion-O had already licked or squeezed the excess water from the fur on his face and neck. The rest of him had mostly dried already between the towels and the fire. "Do you want to start with this?" He said, reaching down to grab Tygra's cock.

"Start wherever you'd like," Tygra said comfortably.

Lion-O gave him a couple additional pumps and then let it fall back against his stomach. Testing for dampness, he ran his hands down Tygra's arms, chest, and sides, and found the skin beneath the fur burning everywhere he touched. "Are you too hot?" he asked, moving on his knees so he could drag his hands down each of Tygra's muscled legs.

"Not yet," Tygra murmured.

Lion-O looked up from over his shins. "We could move away from the fire," he said, eyebrows drawn together apologetically.

"No, no," Tygra said airily. "I wouldn't want to _sleep_ here, but I'm fine for a while. Do your thing."

Lion-O crawled forward and pressed his lips against Tygra's in a brief, chaste kiss, then settled with his knees drawn loosely to his stomach at Tygra's side, half on top of his ribs. Tygra draped an arm over Lion-O's waist, breathing deeply while Lion-O dragged his tongue methodically through the fur on his chest.

It was relaxing work—comforting, even, at the unconscious level—and Lion-O's eyes drifted half shut while he applied himself to his task. He tried to keep in mind the fact that Tygra was growing increasingly excited rather than sleepy, but somewhere between his nipples and stomach, Tygra slid fingers into Lion-O's mane and began rubbing gently. And then he began to churr.

Lion-O was so far under the comfortable haze of instinct that reaching the sticky mess beneath the head of Tygra's shaft came as a literal wake-up call. Alert once more, Lion-O pushed himself up and pulled Tygra's thighs open to settle between them, and then Tygra's hands caressed his mane in the cradle of his legs. Ignoring the pooling precum on Tygra's abdomen for the moment, Lion-O nuzzled between his thighs to groom the silky short fur of his sac with long, thorough licks. He took soft, tugging mouthfuls with his lips to extend his reach, and then dragged his teeth gently, gently over every strand of fur, pleased to hear Tygra's churr deepen in a soft moan.

It was easier to keep Tygra's mood in mind while surrounded by his flexing thighs, tongue pressed firmly to his balls, so when Lion-O finished and worked his way back up to Tygra's erection, the twitching and larger mess were as expected. He dragged his tongue lightly over the base where fur faded to skin, and considered moving upward—cleaning his cock and its mess—but decided to slide back down between his legs and work on the insides of his thighs instead. Tygra groaned and muttered something that might have been "tease," but didn't stop sliding his fingers lovingly through Lion-O's mane until Lion-O had worked his way too far down his legs to reach. He left Tygra's feet alone by request, and once he'd made his way back up to Tygra's lap, the petting recommenced with the fingers of both hands. Lion-O rubbed his cheek against Tygra's thigh as a delighted thanks for the light head massage, and then turned his attention to what his brother had been waiting for.

Tygra was one of the few cats in Thundera who'd been circumcised—evidently something tigers did, because most Thunderians frowned on the practice—and he remained the same size whether erect or flaccid, so Lion-O had less to clean than his initial instinct suggested, and wasn't sure if Tygra would climax before the grooming had finished. He settled for being unnecessarily thorough, touching all of the tight skin with slow, long licks to start, and committing to multiple passes. For the most part, Tygra's cock laid heavy on his stomach, only jumping occasionally, so it didn't take long for Lion-O to groom his way up to the head. He bathed the flushed skin there with Tygra's hands heavy in his mane, licking carefully around the slit and neatly avoiding the mess in his fur. Tygra shifted and groaned softly while Lion-O worked his way back down to the base, and then slowly back up to the head.

This time, he dragged his tongue over the slit, clearing away the slick in a few slow swipes. It was easy—much easier than he thought it would be—to slot the flavor and texture into the mental space where he instinctively regarded all things-to-groom-away, and once he could no longer see a point in re-cleaning the rest of Tygra's shaft, Lion-O remained at the head, where a steady supply of precum kept him busy. He settled back into that half-asleep headspace of a nice long grooming, kneading Tygra's thighs unconsciously with both hands while Tygra churred and sighed, his hands warm and comfortable in Lion-O's mane. Time was inconsequential and impossible to measure, passing in the endless seconds between each lick. Lion-O felt his brother tense steadily beneath him, fingers curling and gripping his mane, not quite pulling, and he understood Tygra's choked gasp for what it was. Moving one hand up to hold Tygra's cock firmly against his stomach, Lion-O lapped at the head while Tygra exploded with a vocal moan, interrupting every spurt with his tongue and clearing away whatever he could catch immediately. When Tygra had spent and began to soften, Lion-O gave him another quick once-over with his tongue, briefly taking all of the head between his lips to be thorough, and then held him out of the way to bathe what remained.

Finishing up turned out to be relatively quick; Tygra hadn't spilled very much—probably thanks to their marathon the night before—and Lion-O had caught most of his seed before it reached his fur. He groomed what needed to be groomed out of the fur on Tygra's abdomen and stomach, followed one thin line almost as far as his chest, and then his instincts pronounced the body beneath him properly bathed, and that comforting mental autopilot began slipping away. Tygra was still panting when Lion-O sighed against the fur beneath his lips and slid up in the tight hold of Tygra's arms. When they were once more face-to-face, Tygra wasted no time in claiming his mouth, and Lion-O allowed Tygra to dominate for the moment, content to be embraced fiercely and to draw lazily on his brother's tongue.

Tygra broke away first, cheerful and still breathless. "Not bad for a trial run." His grip around Lion-O didn't loosen, keeping them pressed tightly together. "Told you you'd swallow it."

Lion-O licked his lips and rested his forehead against Tygra's. "Whatever," he murmured, very ready for a catnap. He tilted his head and accepted another firm kiss, and was finally forced to accept that Tygra's ability to groom fur did not correspond to his ability to groom himself out of Lion-O's mouth. Once Tygra had caught his breath and their kisses turned slow and brief, Lion-O rolled out of his brother's arms and groped in the towels until he'd located Tygra's vials.

Tygra stretched, watching Lion-O spill a vial carefully onto the back of his hand and lick the contents into his mouth. The day astrid worked as promised; he took a nice tongue-full from the candyfruit vial, too, and then sat back with a deeply content sigh. He hadn't slept well the night before, and the relaxing bath followed by an orgasm, massage, and grooming had put him under.

"Was it as bad as you thought it'd be?" Tygra said, languid and spent and very thoroughly groomed, Lion-O was pleased to observe.

"...Not that bad," Lion-O admitted. "Nothing like a she-cat, though." Never mind that Lion-O had never had a she-cat and Tygra had probably already deduced as much. He gave Tygra a lazy grin. "My turn for a break."

Uncharacteristically, Tygra didn't tease, although his expression faded to that same faintly calculating look from earlier. "Yes," he murmured, eyes wandering over Lion-O's body. "I guess you've earned it." He pushed himself up.

While Tygra opened a frigid window just enough to let in a faint breeze, Lion-O donned a soft pair of pants and shirt from Tygra's closet. He and his brother were of a height, but Tygra was a little broader in the shoulder and just that much taller, so his clothing sat low on Lion-O's hips and loose around his neck. It was the first time Lion-O could appreciate their difference in size—Tygra's preference for tight clothing would have made for uncomfortable sleepwear. Warm and drowsy, Lion-O crawled into Tygra's bed and burrowed beneath the bedclothes and two additional blankets.

Tygra settled next to him—on top of the blankets, and apparently opting to sleep in just his fur—and unburied Lion-O enough to kiss him. "We can pick up where we left off after lunch," he offered, rearranging the blankets to make holding Lion-O easier.

"Sure," Lion-O said, wordlessly consenting to the change in position. "You promised me a slick ride last night."

Tygra rested a heavy, possessive arm around Lion-O's waist. "Look forward to it."

Lion-O directed a slight smirk upward. "I know you are." He nuzzled beneath Tygra's chin and pressed his face into hot fur, once more brushing aside the expression he'd just caught on his brother's features. He'd think about it later, when he wasn't so drowsy.

Tygra slid his fingers into Lion-O's mane and made no further comment.

Lion-O slipped into a deep sleep almost immediately, only distantly aware of Tygra's lips on his brow as he dropped off. But the feeling of an affectionate tongue dragging through his fur—and the fingers running slowly through his mane—followed him into his dreams regardless.


End file.
